


But It's a Green Christmas For Me

by VenusMonstrosa



Series: recalibrates' Stucky Advent Calendar 2018 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Possibly Pre-Slash, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, The Grinch AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusMonstrosa/pseuds/VenusMonstrosa
Summary: Day 2: Inside a snowflake, like the one on your sleeve, there happened a story you must see to believe.





	But It's a Green Christmas For Me

**Author's Note:**

> I had to, you know?

Stevie Lou Who is halfway up Mount Crumpit, braving rocky ledges and slippery patches of ice, when he finally pauses to glance down at the busy little town below. Whoville is lit up in festive reds and greens, a warm and sparkling beacon in the snowy landscape. He’d give just about anything to be at home in bed, curled up with hot cocoa and a book. With a frown, he turns back to the crooked mountain and squints through the falling snow, finally able to make out a wooden door not far above him.

Pulling his hood up against the harsh wind, he continues along the precarious trail to the top.

Over the jubilant songs of the Whobilation, he hears the distant sounds of metallic scraping, cymbals crashing, a dog barking? When he finally reaches the door, Stevie pulls his mittens off and knocks on it sharply. “Mr. Grinch?”

The awful noises continue. He knocks again. “Mr. Grinch? I know you’re in there!”

Still no answer. Stevie knocks again, then spots the doggie door.

He sighs.

“Mr. Grinch?” he shouts, squeezing through it on his hands and knees.

The cacophonous racket is louder inside, echoing through the hollowed-out mountain. It’s dark and damp, cluttered with piles of garbage that he has to climb over to get to the source of the sounds. Stevie continues to call out when he’s suddenly picked up by the back of his cloak, leaving his feet dangling in the air.

“Hey!” Stevie yells, twisting around until he’s face to face with--

Not the Grinch. This man is beautiful in a rough and hairy sort of way, unlike anyone Stevie has ever seen before. Not even his delicate Who nose takes away from his rugged handsomeness. 

Nevertheless, Stevie is here on a mission.

“Who are you?” he demands. “Where’s Mr. Grinch?”

The man, looking none too pleased, gives Stevie a little shake. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“M’not a kid,” Stevie growls, raising his fists. “Put me down before I--”

The man drops him and Stevie lands on his rear, thankfully cushioned by a pile of old, discarded cushions.

“Don’t make me ask you twice,” the man warns, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“You just asked twice,” Stevie points out, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “Obviously, I’m here for Mr. Grinch.”

The man stares at Stevie for a long, tense moment. “You’re lookin’ at him,” he finally says.

Stevie blinks. “Where?”

To his surprise, the man manages to look even more annoyed than before. “Me. It’s me. I’m the Grinch.”

“No, you’re not,” Stevie says. “I met him.”

“Yeah. You met me.”

“I would’ve remembered if I met  _ you, _ ” Stevie blurts out angrily, going pink in the cheeks. “And you’re not even green.”

“It’s a mask,” the man says, shifting uncomfortably. “So people leave me alone.”

Stevie stops short, taking his earmuffs off in case he misheard. “I don’t get it. You’re a Who? You just pretend to be a--”

“I don’t pretend to be  _ anything, _ ” he snaps. “I just like my privacy, okay?”

“But everyone thinks you’re dangerous!”

“Maybe I am,” he says coolly. He folds his thick arms over his muscular chest, and it’s only then that Stevie sees the gleaming metal arm under his tattered sleeve. It whirrs and creaks ominously with each movement.

Boldly, Stevie lifts his chin and looks him square in the eyes. “Mr. Grinch, my name is Stevie Lou Who, and I’m not scared.”

The man looks him over like he’s sizing him up. What he’s looking for, Stevie isn’t sure, but he tries not to wither under his gaze. “You don’t gotta call me that. It’s Bucky.”

Stevie perks up. “Mr. Bucky?”

“Just Bucky,” he grumbles. “What do you want, anyway?”

“Oh. Um. Well,” Stevie clears his throat, rummaging through his pockets until he finds the invitation and holds it out. “I came to invite you to be Holiday Cheer-Meister.” 

Bucky snatches the invitation out of his hand and skims over it. “‘Celebrate with friends’,” he reads aloud. “Good one.”

“I know you hate Christmas,” Stevie begins patiently. “But maybe it’s all just a misunderstanding.”

“Don’t care,” Bucky says, turning to leave. 

Stevie nearly has to jog to keep up with him. “I get it, you know. I’ll admit I’ve been having Yuletide doubts, too. But maybe if you come down to Whoville and celebrate with everyone--”

“Ugh, grow up,” Bucky grunts.

“Then maybe it’ll be okay for us, both?”

“No chance.”

“But you have to accept the award!” Stevie urges. “There’s a trophy and everything!”

Bucky quickly turns around, and Stevie half-expects to be picked up again. Instead, Bucky is in his face, lips pursed and nostrils flaring. “I don’t want an award. I don’t want to be Holiday Whatever-the-hell. I don’t care about Christmas.”

Stevie doesn’t back down. “The Cheer-Meister is the one who deserves a back slap or toast, and it goes to the soul at Christmas who needs it the most,” he recites. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “And you think that’s me.”

“I do,” Stevie says vehemently. “I know you think Christmas is dumb and materialistic. And for some people, it is,” he continues with a shrug. “But I believe it’s about more than that. This is the time of year you should be spending with friends and family, not to exchange presents, but to love and appreciate each other. At least, that’s what I think you should do. And you can’t do that alone.”

“That’s all very sweet and touching,” Bucky says, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “But I don’t  _ have _ friends or family.” 

Distantly, a dog barks.

“Not you, Max!” he shouts. “Okay, I have Max,” he corrects. 

“I’ll be your friend,” Stevie says, trying not to sound too eager. 

“How magnanimous of you,” Bucky says mildly, pointing him to the front door. “You should get back before you miss the Whobilation.”

Stevie’s shoulders droop. “Alright.”

Bucky snorts. “Cut the crap. It’s Christmas tomorrow, so we both know you’ll be back here to pester me some more.”

“Maybe. Probably. Yes,” Stevie admits, feeling marginally better. “You’ll let me in again?”

“I didn’t let you in  _ this _ time,” Bucky reminds him.

“That’s not a no,” Stevie grins.

Bucky’s mouth twitches in a way that might almost be a smile, if Stevie was optimistic. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a tenacious little bastard?”

“Once or twice.”

“Uh huh. See you later, Stevie.”

The doormat he was standing on gives way, and Stevie finds himself falling down a garbage chute. The slide twists and turns all the way down the mountain, and he spills out the other end into a fluffy snowbank in the middle of town. He allows himself a moment to lay there and laugh before getting up and brushing himself off. 

The Grinch wasn’t such a mean one after all. Maybe they’ll be able to find Christmas, together.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://recalibrates.tumblr.com) :D
> 
> P.S. Happy Hanukkah!!!


End file.
